


Bracelets

by PJO_Connoisseur



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Character, Asexual Luke Patterson, Bisexual Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Coming Out, Everyone Is Gay, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Acephobia, Luke Patterson Needs a Hug (Julie and The Phantoms), M/M, Panromantic Luke Patterson, Past Alex/Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Pining, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27388348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PJO_Connoisseur/pseuds/PJO_Connoisseur
Summary: In 1994, Luke is convinced he's broken. In 2020, he may finally have the language and support he needs to believe otherwise.
Relationships: Luke Patterson/Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms)
Comments: 126
Kudos: 499





	Bracelets

Luke, Reggie, Alex, and Bobby are laying on their backs in a row on Luke’s bedroom floor. They’ve been playing truth or dare all night, but now that they’ve tuckered themselves out, they’ve transitioned to only doing group truths.

“Okay,” Bobby says. “If you could spend one night with any girl in our grade, who would you pick?”

Reggie hums in contemplation and Alex is uncomfortable, but Luke has no problem answering. “Ashley.”

Bobby raises an eyebrow. “Really? Why?”

“She’s an amazing musician,” Luke says. “I bet we could write some really cool songs together.”

Bobby bursts out laughing. “That’s not what I meant.”

Luke’s eyebrows furrow. “Then what did you mean?”

“Not a hangout,” Bobby says. Before Luke can ask for further clarification, Reggie supplies, “Like a one-night stand.”

Oh. That is definitely not what Luke thought they were talking about, and now he feels stupid for not having gotten it.

“I like Luke’s thing better, though,” Reggie continues. “I don’t think I’d be comfortable just hooking up.”

“Lame,” Bobby says. “What about you, Alex?”

Alex has been so quiet Luke wonders if he’s even been breathing. “Uh, Hannah, I guess,” Alex mumbles.

“That was a test, and you all failed,” Bobby says. “Jessica is obviously the hottest girl in our grade. I’d kill to tap that.”

Reggie frowns. “Don’t be crude.”

Bobby nudges him with his arm. “You’re just mad it’ll never happen for you.”

Alex rolls his eyes. “You sure talk big for someone in the same position.”

Bobby’s grin widdens, as if he was hoping someone would say that. “Not anymore. You remember Sarah, the girl I went out with last weekend?” Everyone nods even though Luke knows none of them can keep up with all the girls Bobby goes out with. “Well, you could say it went _very_ well.” No one says anything to that.

Luke wishes he could tell what Alex and Reggie are thinking. They’re all only sixteen. He hasn’t been thinking about sex and assumed they hadn’t either, but apparently at least Bobby was having it. His stomach contracts. This whole conversation makes him self-conscious. Is he _supposed_ to be thinking about sex right now? Apparently, if his friends were so nonchalant about this. Luke picks at the carpet, contributing as little as possible to the rest of the conversation, comforted only by Alex’s mirrored silence.

***

Luke glances around him as if he’s committing a crime. Then, his hand darts forward, snatching a copy of Playboy magazine. He isn’t old enough to buy it, but he doesn’t need to keep the magazine, anyway. He came here with a _purpose_.

Still looking around, he flips past the interviews and pictorials to the brand-defining centerfold. Someone named Elisa Bridges poses naked with a pool cue and stares back at him, and in her Luke tries to see what other guys would see. He’s not repulsed by the image or anything, but he’s not particularly _into_ it either. Guys at school bribe their older brothers into getting them copies, making the magazine coveted, but looking at one now, Luke doesn’t get why they care so much.

Luke replaces the magazine. Maybe there’s just something wrong with him.

***

Luke doesn’t knock when he arrives at Alex’s house, greeting his parents as he walks through. At this point he’s practically one of their kids, and Alex is used to him showing up unexpectedly. Alex won’t be home for another few minutes, so Luke waits in his room, collapsing onto his bed as if it’s his own. He, Alex, Reggie, and Bobby have been like this for years, dipping in and out of each other’s lives as if they’ve always been there.

Sticking his hand under the pillow to cuddle with it, his hand slides across something smooth. Tugging on the object, the corner of a magazine slips out, the familiar “Play” of “Playboy” now visible. After how awkward Alex was during Bobby bringing up sex, Luke assumed Alex and he were on the same page, but apparently not. He should leave it alone, but maybe last time was a fluke. Maybe he’s normal after all and it was just that girl in particular he wasn’t into.

Against his conscience he pulls out the magazine, heart stopping when he sees the cover. It’s not Playboy—it’s Play _girl_ , with a buff man on the cover. He should put it back, but his surprise freezes him.

The door creaks as Alex opens it, but it’s too late for Luke to replace the magazine. Luke can see the exact moment Alex registers what he’s holding on his face. “W-what are you doing?” Alex says, voice shaking. “I can explain, it’s—”

Luke shoves the magazine back under the pillow, carefully not to wrinkle it. “Hey, it’s okay—”

“I promise I—”

“Alex,” Luke says, firm enough to silence Alex, who’s glowing red. He drops his voice in case Alex’s parents are nearby. “It’s okay if you’re gay.”

Alex stares at him, barely breathing, taking a careful step forward as if Luke is presenting a trap. “Is it?”

“Of course, man,” Luke says. “You’re one of my best friends. Reggie and Bobby wouldn’t mind if they knew, either.” When Alex began to tense, he added, “I’m not going to tell them, though. That’s up to you.”

Alex nods, sitting beside him with an unusual level of distance, posture stiff. The silence is uncomfortable until Alex breaks it with, “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Luke says, as if it’s obvious, as if they’ve had this conversation before. He glances at Alex periodically before scooting closer to him, panic flaring in Alex’s eyes. “Um, you don’t have to, like, keep your distance, if that’s what you’re doing.”

Alex tilts his head, scrutinizing. When he doesn’t find the dishonesty he was looking for, he musters a small smile and removes the rest of the distance, knocking their arms together. “What’d you come here for, anyway?”

Luke shrugged. “Just had to get out of the house, I guess.”

“Your folks on you about college again?” Alex asks.

Luke nods. “I just didn’t feel like dealing with it right now.”

Alex and Luke spend the rest of the day listening to Alex’s CDs and playing Monopoly even though Alex always wins. Although Luke maintains the conversation, his mind is elsewhere. He never considered if he was gay. Maybe that’s the problem, why he isn’t interested in women the way Bobby and Reggie seem to be.

Maybe he’s normal, or at least as normal as being gay is compared to not feeling that way at all.

***

Following Alex’s accidental coming out, Alex becomes more and more tense with Reggie and Bobby, but behind the scenes, he becomes increasingly confident in Luke. Slowly but surely he opens up about how he figured it out, how long he’s known, and which classmates he thinks are cute. There’s an ease about him that Luke isn’t used to.

One day they’re laying side-by-side on Luke’s bed, when out of the blue Luke asks, “So who was your first crush?” When Alex talked about his gay awakening as he calls it, he’s vague on the person who triggered it, focusing more on himself. That attitude makes sense, but Luke is a curious person.

Alex retreats back into his shell for the first time since coming out. “I don’t remember. Just some guy.”

Luke tilts his head to face Alex, who’s looking at the ceiling. “You know I don’t care, right?”

“You wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t care.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Luke says. “I meant I’m not going to judge you.”

“It’s weird,” Alex says.

Luke snorts. “Having a crush isn’t weird.”

Alex is clenching and unclenching his hands, his immobile version of pacing. “I meant...weird for _you_.”

Luke frowns. “Why would it be... _Oh_.” He opens and closes his mouth, trying and failing to find more words.

Alex winces. “Told you. It’s weird. And the gay guy crushing on his straight friend is such a cliche.”

“It’s not weird,” Luke says. “I just wasn’t expecting it.” He pauses, meeting this moment of vulnerability with some of his own. “I don’t know if I’m straight, anyway.”

Alex looks at him for the first time, taken off-guard but invested nonetheless. “Really?”

Luke nods. “Yeah. I just...when Bobby and Reggie talk about girls...I don’t know if I feel the way they do, you know?”

“Yeah,” Alex says. “That was my first clue.”

“Maybe I’m gay, too,” Luke says, turning his head back to the ceiling. The words stick uncomfortably to his tongue, like a cheap piece of gum chewed for too long. He glances at Alex, biting his lip, heart in his throat. “Do you, you know, still like me?” A minute passes, which is enough time for Luke to regret his question.

“I stopped actively crushing on you,” Alex says, selecting his words with care. “But I’m not...I’m not against the idea of being with you now, if that makes sense.”

Luke nods, swallows, twists his body so he’s on his side and half hovering over Alex. He bits his lip again. “Could I, maybe…”

Alex props himself up on his forearms, and he must get what Luke is trying to say, because he presses a quick kiss to his lips. His face is neutral as he pulls back, waiting for Luke’s reaction.

Luke smiles as he plops back down beside Alex, causing Alex to smile in turn. With the ounce of courage he can garner, Luke slips his hand into Alex’s, and the two lay there grinning side by side.

***

Luke and Alex don’t talk about what they are, but as far as Luke knows, they’re dating. With neither of them about to come out to the general populace, defining exclusivity is unnecessary. They do all the same things they used to, hanging out both privately and with the band, just with some kissing and cuddling thrown in. Dating a guy throws gender norms out the window, so Luke ends up finding out new things about himself, like that he enjoys receiving flowers and borrowing Alex’s hoodies. Lyrics and poetry aren’t so different, so sometimes Luke writes little love poems and slips them into Alex’s fanny pack when he’s not paying attention. And Luke was right: when they confide in Reggie and Bobby about their relationship, neither mind.

The whole thing is nice and comfortable. Although there are differences between the two, dating Alex and dating girls feels fundamentally the same. But even now he doesn’t think about Alex the way other guys think about girls. He wouldn’t call Alex “sexy” or “hot” like Bobby does with his dates, even though he _does_ find Alex attractive. He likes looking at him the same way he likes looking at a sunset. He’d sooner call Alex “handsome” or “cute” or “pretty” than anything else. So maybe he’s not gay, but if he likes dating both guys and girls without thinking of them _that way_ , that has to mean something, right?

In the end it doesn’t matter, because once the initial excitement and self-discovery of a first relationship wears off, he and Alex both realize those things were what was fueling their relationship, not genuine romantic chemistry. Still, in the end Luke is pretty sure that he’s not gay or straight, even if he’s not sure that’s a _thing_. Regardless, he’s more confused than ever.

***

After Alex didn’t yield the results he was hoping for, Luke tries again with women, this time in practice.

He’s at a party because Reggie wanted him to come. Parties have always felt like one of those things that _should_ be Luke’s thing, being the outgoing of the group, but really he’d rather unleash all his social energy on his close friends. Reggie, on the other hand, despite his underlying insecurity, or maybe because of it, is a social butterfly, fluttering between people but not forming anything too deep with any of them. Alex hates this kind of thing and stayed home, and Bobby is flirting with a girl in the corner.

Luke wishes Reggie stayed with him even though he knows that’s selfish and defeats the purpose of a party. If he and Reggie were just going to hang out, they could have done that at the studio. But instead he’s here, holding a cup of beer he doesn’t want to drink and catching glimpses of Reggie in between, and all he wants to do is leave.

“Hey buddy,” Reggie says, appearing at Luke’s side. His smile doesn’t quite mask his concern, Reggie having always been the easiest to read. Reggie can’t help but wear his heart on his sleeve, and it’s one of the things Luke likes best about him. Reggie leans against the wall and nudges him with his shoulder. “Why aren’t you talking to anyone?”

Luke shrugs, tapping their red Solo cups together. Reggie is more confident than him at times like this and is openly drinking Coca Cola instead of beer. He never seems to care what anyone thinks the way Luke does. Or, maybe it’s that he only cares what the band thinks, not strangers. That’s more likely, because Luke knows that as emotional as Reggie is, the overflowing outward emotions still cover a lot of pain underneath.

Reggie’s facade drops along with the corners of his mouth. “It would take your mind off Alex if you’d socialize. Just try it.”

But Luke isn’t thinking about Alex. The breakup was a little weird and tense, but he’s not, like, _heartbroken_. All he’s torn up about is how he still feels broken, how he doesn’t seem to be attracted to anyone in the way he’s supposed to be. He and Alex never went beyond making out, and while Luke didn’t know if Alex wanted more, he knew _he_ didn’t want more. He was good staying above the belt, and honestly it was starting to seem really weird that everyone else wanted _more_ so badly. In the locker room some guys talked about it like they needed it to survive or something, and Luke didn’t get that.

But he can’t tell Reggie that or Reggie will think he’s a freak, and he came here to try to fix it anyway, so he mumbles agreement and approaches the girl who’s been sending him _looks_ all night. He’d still rather be talking to Reggie, but she’s really cute and dropping hints that she’d like to be alone with him, so he goes with it, because he’s supposed to _want_ to go with it.

Luke is the one to suggest they go “somewhere quieter,” because that seems like the kind of line a guy in a movie would use, and she takes his hand, guiding him to one of the bedrooms. Reggie shoots him a thumbs-up on the way there, even though once again there’s underlying worry. This time Luke doesn’t get it; this is what Reggie _wanted_.

On the way to the bedroom, Luke thinks about that look on Reggie’s face, and how he doesn’t even know whose house this is, and how stupid it is that he carries around a cup of beer he won’t drink just to fit in. And how he’s still kind of doing that now, doing what’s expected of him, hoping that because this girl is pretty and nice she’ll unlock this new attraction everyone else has been enjoying all this time.

They’re kissing, and it’s nice. But people don’t go into bedrooms at house parties just to kiss and Luke knows that. He’s on autopilot: his lips on her neck, her hands under his shirt, stumbling over to the bed. Even from the other side of the door the music is too loud, and he’s not into this encounter enough to block it out. Before he can think too much about it, both of their shirts are off and she’s kissing her way down his chest. Luke focuses on her breasts, waiting for the thought to click like, _Oh, this is what everyone has been talking about._ There is no click.

She climbs off of him, sitting at his side, her hand resting just above the top edge of his jeans. She’s tracing patterns there as she asks, “Want me to go down on you?” She’s smiling, genuine, and he’s smiling, fake. This isn’t really working out the way he wanted it to. This is the part where he’s supposed to _want it_. But instead he says he has to go, puts his shirt back on, and bolts before she can respond.

Luke tells Reggie he’s leaving, but he doesn’t stay long enough to give an explanation. What would he say, anyway?

***

Valentine’s Day comes on a Friday, so the corresponding dance is on Saturday. Sunset Curve performs, but after soaking up the applause, they all head back to the studio to eat discounted candy and watch cheesy romantic comedies. Reggie is unapologetically into every story, Alex and Luke are neutral but enjoy Reggie’s enthusiasm, and Bobby always acts like he’s too cool for the genre even though he’s the most invested by the end each and every time.

There’s an air mattress in the studio for when any of them need to get away from their families, and they drag it in front of the TV in the corner. Even though the mattress isn’t big enough for four people, they all cram onto it together, a complex tangle of limbs. Back when the band first formed and they were all new to each other, they were careful with personal space. Now personal space isn’t a concept in their minds, none of them hesitating to lay however feels comfortable. Reggie, the coldest of the four, is snuggled between Luke and Alex, the human space heaters. Bobby is on Alex’s other side, using Alex’s folded arm as a pillow.

As they watch movie after movie, the bag of candy getting emptier and emptier all the while, Reggie ends up using Luke like a body pillow, and Alex and Bobby both fall asleep, Bobby laying on Alex’s chest, face buried in his pink sweatshirt.

“We should do this every year,” Luke says, running his fingers through Reggie’s hair.

Reggie’s head is on Luke’s shoulder, an arm draped around his torso. He’s on a later sleep schedule than the rest of them, used to his parents keeping him awake with their fighting. Sometimes they even manage to keep him awake with their silence.

Reggie looks up at him. “But we already do.”

Luke shakes his head. “For now. But I mean like, after high school, when we’re all famous and touring together. Even then.”

Reggie hums. “Won’t you want to spend Valentine’s Day with your girlfriend or boyfriend?”

Luke frowns. “I don’t think I’m going to have one.”

Reggie lifts his head, forcing Luke to retract his hand. “Why would you think that?”

Luke can’t meet his gaze. “I don’t know.”

“Luke,” Reggie says, and it’s a rare occasion on which he sounds as serious as he does now.

Luke shrugs before answering the best he can without letting Reggie know how messed up he is. “I don’t think I’m the kind of person people want to date.” It’s true, at least. Who would want to date someone who doesn’t want to have sex with them? Luke never related dating and sex, but with time he’s realizing other people do.

Reggie’s face contorts, struggling to keep his voice low with the two sleeping next to them. “How can you say that? You’re one of the nicest, hardest working, passionate people ever, and you look _really_ good in sleeveless shirts. Why wouldn’t people want that?”

Luke’s heart rate picks up, shaken by Reggie’s uncharacteristic intensity. In spite of himself, he’s blushing. “It’s complicated.” _You’re lying_ , a voice says. _It’s not complicated. You just don’t want him to know you’re broken._ He swallows.

Reggie softens, bringing out unintentional puppy dog eyes. “Luke…”

Luke shakes his head. “Not tonight.”

Reggie reluctantly gives in. “Fine.” He opens his arm in an offer.

Luke smiles, turning onto his side so Reggie can wrap his arms around him. Reggie sets his forehead against the back of Luke’s neck, a comforting pressure, and one of his hands lands just above Luke’s jeans. Luke knows this is a normal position, the same place Reggie always has his hands when he’s the big spoon, but Luke stiffens, flashing back to that bedroom, that girl. Bile rises in his throat.

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” he says, extracting himself from Reggie with as much force as he can without hurting him and rushing to the bathroom. Luke leans on the sink, fingers curling around the edge so tightly they turn as white as the porcelain. Meeting his own eyes in the mirror, he finds himself trembling.

“What is wrong with you?” he hisses to his reflection. He watches the anger crumble from his face, his eyes becoming glossy, before he can no longer look at himself and hangs his head. All the sensations of that night are etched into his mind. At the time being an autopilot let the whole encounter feel dreamlike; now, even though it’s just a memory, he experiences it in full force, like seeing the color version of a photograph that was formerly black and white. He’s going to throw up.

There’s tapping on the door. “Luke?” Reggie asks. “Can I come in?”

No ‘Are you okay?’ because they both know the answer. Worse, they both know Luke would lie to him. He wants to tell Reggie to go away, to not let someone he cares about see him all wound up over _nothing_. It was _nothing_ , and he’s being such a child over it. But despite his better judgment, he says, “Y-yeah.”

Reggie opens the bathroom door, moving slowly, as if Luke is a cornered animal. In a way he feels like one, just that he’s at the mercy of Reggie’s judgment rather than violence. Reggies closes the door behind him, and when he approaches Luke, his hand hovers over his shoulder. A question. Luke nods, and Reggie places his hand on his arm. He says nothing, waiting.

Luke’s throat is tight as more tears gather. He can’t make himself speak, but the longer he stays quiet, the more embarrassed he feels. What guy gets upset about a consensual encounter at a party? Especially when nothing even happened? What the fuck is wrong with him?

Realizing Luke isn’t going to start, Reggie offers an observation. “You tensed when I touched you. I won’t do that again if you don’t want me to.”

Luke opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. He doesn’t have a problem with Reggie touching him. He _knows_ Reggie wasn’t trying anything. Which is an additional reason this is so stupid. It’s not even _about_ Reggie, but his mind is all mixed up and he’s nauseous. “I’m sorry,” Luke says, because he doesn’t know what else to say. Reggie should be cuddling with Alex right now, not in a bathroom trying to calm down Luke when he doesn’t even know what’s going on, when this isn’t Reggie’s problem, when it’s not Reggie’s fault that Luke is _like this_.

Reggie squeezes his shoulder. “What for?”

“Just...being a child,” Luke says, hanging his head to avoid eye contact.

Reggie places a hand on Luke’s chin, a featherlike touch, and tilts his head up to face him. “Whatever it is isn’t childish, but I’m here for you whether you want to tell me about it or not.”

Luke doesn’t know how Reggie does that: keeps his cool, says all the right things. “I did something stupid,” he whispers. “And now I’m just being stupid about it.”

“I doubt that,” Reggie says, removing his hand from Luke’s cheek to take his hand instead. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

To his surprise, Luke finds that he does. He recounts the night even though he’s filled with more shame the longer he talks. When he’s done, he expects Reggie to tell him he’s overreacting, that he can’t go crying over something he consented to, that he’s being immature.

What Reggie actually says is, “Can I hug you?”

The need for physical comfort hits Luke like a freight train, and he initiates the hug, clinging to his friend like a life preserver. Reggie rubs his back while Luke lets some tears slip, murmuring words of reassurance in his ear.

“You’re not being childish,” Reggie says. “You can consent to things without it being for the right reasons, and doing it for the wrong reasons can still be detrimental.” Luke almost laughs, always forgetting what an avid reader Reggie is until he pulls out a big word Luke himself never would have used. Reggie doesn’t ask what Luke’s wrong reason was, and Luke is grateful. “And hey,” Reggie says, pulling his head back so he can meet Luke’s eyes. “You’re not wrong for wanting to stop.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Reggie says. “You don’t have to want it at every opportunity.”

 _Or any opportunity_ , Luke thinks but doesn’t say. Reggie’s acceptance hangs on this being conditional. The assumption, of course, is that there is a situation where he would want it. Still, the queasiness has subsided, the tears are done, and Luke’s body is begging him for sleep. Luke nods and allows Reggie to lead him back to the air mattress. This time Luke is the big spoon, holding Reggie close to him like a teddy bear.

Part of him wishes he told Reggie the whole truth, but a bigger part finds solace in the secret.

***

The coming months fly by as Sunset Curve becomes increasingly popular. They’re still just one mostly unknown band in a city full of mostly unknown bands, but slowly they’re getting the recognition they’ve worked their asses off for. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll get famous and Luke’s parents will finally see his talent and potential. He doesn’t even want them to feel bad for the fight; he just wants them to be proud of him.

And then he dies.

***

After the boys are brought back to life—or, at least as close to life as you can be after dying—their time with Julie is a whirlwind. He barely has time to process what’s going on, so it feels like no time has passed by the time he’s standing in band practice while Reggie says, “I don’t know, sometimes a little fire can make things better on-stage.” He turns his attention to Luke. “Like you and Julie.”

Luke’s self-assurance wavers. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Reggie gives him a look. “C’mon, everyone can see the way you look at her when you sing. You guys _ooze_ chemistry.”

“You should never say ‘ooze’ again, but yeah, I agree,” Alex adds, standing up.

Luke prickles, guard going up though he’s not entirely sure why. Julie is a wrecking ball of talent, and now that Luke has begun making music with her, he never wants to stop. If they’d been alive at the same time, he would probably be head-over-heels for her. But they _aren’t_ alive at the same time, and Luke knows they could never be together long-term. She’d have to give up ever having a boyfriend she could tell people about and never have a normal relationship, and he’d have to watch her age while he was stuck at seventeen. It could never work, and they’ve even talked about how it could never work, and that knowledge made it easy to shut down the feelings he would have had in another timeline. In this timeline they’re best friends, bandmates, and writing partners, and he’s okay with that, so why is he prickling?

Luke doesn’t give the feeling too much thought at this moment, evading the issue by replying, “No, I have chemistry with everybody that I sing with.” Reggie and Alex share a look, further setting off Luke’s defensiveness as well as frustration. It’s a bit condescending for his friends to be acting like they know his feelings better than he does. “Seriously, watch.” He launched into the chorus of “Edge of Great.”

_I believe_

_I believe that we're just one dream_

Luke doesn’t normally have to think when he sings. He feels and knows his songs by heart, and when he sings them, it’s like he’s right back in the headspace he was in when he wrote them. Hope, heartbreak, regret, resentment—it all comes rushing back, and the way he can relive his memories through performance is what tells him when his song is or isn’t working. Yet right now the emotions don’t flow naturally. He’s trying too hard, putting too much active thought into his movements and tone to draw the intended response, and it shows.

_Away from who we're meant to be_

Luke approaches Reggie with uneven steps until they’re inches apart. In his first moment of instinct within the song, he grasps the back of Reggie’s neck, tugging him closer. His eyes lock with Reggie’s, and some of the pressure is relieved. Reggie is a focus point he can center himself around. There is only Reggie, his pretty brown eyes wide and taken aback, a light blush on his cheeks. Reggie blushes easily, but Luke had never been the cause before, and the knowledge that he had that effect sends a thrill through him.

_That we're standing on the edge of...great._

The last word sounds like an afterthought, and it kind of is, quickly added to end the line after Luke got distracted by Reggie’s intense gaze. While Luke probably looks desperate, Reggie looks awestruck.

Reggie’s voice cracks as he says, “That was pretty hot.”

Even if Luke doesn’t really get the ‘hot’ thing and the word still pokes at a bruise, he can’t help but smile. Reggie just looks so cute like that, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Maybe on instinct, maybe to tease Reggie, maybe to reassert himself as in charge of the conversation, Luke kisses his fingertips and presses them to Reggie’s lips before stepping back. If it’s possible, Reggie sinks further into his disorientation. Luke wouldn’t mind teasing Reggie more after this.

Reggie clears his throat and says, “Girls, am I right?”

“Yeah,” Luke says, both amused at Reggie’s demeanor and relieved at changing the topic.

Alex grins. “No.” With that comment the tension breaks and they slide back into practice like nothing happened. Well, except for Luke periodically glancing at Reggie, but no one has to know about that.

***

After Alex met Willie, he began spending more and more time away from the studio. He says it’s because he has so many questions, but Luke and Reggie know better. That in combination with Julie’s school schedule frequently leaves Reggie and Luke alone in the studio, finding things to do that won’t create music with a suspicious lack of source.

What they end up doing most of the time is playing Scrabble. It’s a bad idea each and every time, because Reggie devours books like it’s his job, even if he doesn’t usually use the resulting vocabulary. Except when he’s playing Scrabble. When he’s playing Scrabble it’s like a bit of every book he’s ever read comes out all at once for the sole purpose of absolutely obliterating Luke. Yet, not only does Luke always agree, he’s usually the one who offers, because Reggie enjoys it. When Reggie is upset, Scrabble is the best way to fix it.

Reggie lays on his stomach while they play, all casual with a lazy expression, like he isn’t planning a horrific massacre with his tiles. Luke, meanwhile, is sitting cross-legged on the other side of the board, face scrunched up in concentration even though he’ll most likely end up playing the three-letter word he came up with five minutes ago. Luke always does this, taking a long time that never leads anywhere fruitful, but Reggie is never bothered. Reggie even congratulates Luke when he manages a word worth more than five points, and he _means_ it, because that’s just how Reggie is. And that’s exactly why Luke always takes so long, because he really, _really_ wants to be on the receiving end of that proud smile.

When Luke takes his turn at long last, his word is only worth five points, but Reggie still tells him he’ll do better next round. He probably won’t, but it’s nice to hear anyway. Reggie, meanwhile, plays his shortest word yet, “sexy,” which would be fourteen points on its own but is bumped up to twenty-eight by a double word score. Luke’s stomach twists, but not because of how badly he’s losing.

“What does that even _mean_?” Luke says before he can stop himself. He wants to take it back, but Reggie is giving him a funny look and he knows it’s too late.

“Arousing sexual desire or interest,” Reggie says like a human dictionary as he sits up. He fiddles with the sleeves of the flannel wrapped around his waist, studying Luke’s face.

Luke looks away. That definition should be simple, right? But it doesn’t feel simple to him. It’s like, what, people just look at other people and are mentally like, ‘I want to have sex with you’? That sounds insane. But he can’t ask Reggie if that’s right, because based on the look on Reggie’s face, asking the definition in the first place was already weird. He plays the first word he finds, wanting to move on with this game and pretend this conversation didn’t happen.

Reggie is still watching him with an unreadable expression, but whatever he’s thinking, he lets it go.

***

When Julie comes home from school, Luke is the first to notice a new bracelet on her wrist. She’s always been more inclined toward necklaces, usually in silver or gold, so the pink, purple, and blue woven bracelet stands out.

“Cool bracelet,” Luke says, leaping off the couch to examine it more closely. “Did you make it?”

“Flynn did,” Julie said, spinning it on her wrist. “She has her own Etsy store.” When the guys all give her the same confused look, she explains, “It’s this website where you can buy handmade stuff. People’s individual pages are their stores.”

“Oooh,” Reggie says. “It’s really pretty.” He appears at Luke’s side, lifting Julie’s hand to look. “Could she make me one?”

Julie laughs. “I don’t know if you’d want one like this. The colors mean something.” She leaves her backpack by the couch.

Alex stands to check out the bracelet, twirling a drumstick around his fingers. “Is that a pride bracelet?”

Julie grins. “Yeah. Did Willie teach you that?”

Alex has a small, shy smile. “Yeah. He’s been teaching all sorts of new words. I can’t remember which that one is, though.”

“Bisexual,” she says.

“What does that mean?” Reggie asks.

“I’m attracted to more than one gender,” Julie says.

Reggie’s jaw drops. “You can _do_ that?”

“Reg, you already know I’ve dated both sexes,” Luke says.

“Oh yeah,” Reggie says. “To be fair Alex was the only guy, so I thought maybe he was a fluke.”

“Rude,” Alex says.

Reggie mouths an apology.

Julie laughs. “Of course you can do that. You can love whoever you want.” She pauses, a knowing smile playing at her lips. “Why? Do you get that?”

Reggie nods vigorously, and Julie moves to wrap him up in a hug before remembering she can’t.

“I got you,” Luke says, hugging Reggie in her place but mind elsewhere. Bisexual. Maybe that’s what he is? But when he thinks about crushing on people, he thinks of it less as liking more than one gender and more like gender doesn’t even _matter_. Is that still bisexual? And “bisexual” even has “sexual” in the name, and he doesn’t feel that way about anyone, so he must not be bisexual. And he’s back to square one.

“I’ll ask Flynn to make a bracelet for you,” Julie says. She looks at Alex. “Do you want a rainbow one?”

Alex perks up. “Yeah. That...that sounds nice.”

Julie eyes Luke, and he feels like she can see into him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke says. He pulls on a smile. “Just excited to start practice.” No one believes him, but they accept that he isn’t ready to talk and launch into practice.

***

Ghosts don’t need to sleep, but they still do most nights to maintain a level of normalcy. Right now Reggie and Alex are cuddled up together, asleep on the air mattress in the loft. Luke is downstairs, pacing like he’s been possessed by Alex.

Ever since Luke demonstrated his chemistry with Reggie, he hasn’t stopped thinking about it. How he was uncharacteristically self-conscious, how cute Reggie looked, how satisfying it was to fluster his friend. And he thinks about other things before that, too. Like how even though he’s physically affectionate with all of his friends, Reggie is his favorite person to cuddle with; how even though his friends are all comforting, Reggie is the best at calming Luke down; and how even though he loves Reggie, Alex, and Julie equally, with Reggie it feels...different. Not more or less, just _different_.

And he has a bad, bad feeling about what that means.

The whole affair is worsened by the conversation with Julie a few days ago about bisexuality. He wants to ask her about it, ask if other people understand how he feels, deeply in a romantic way and nothing in a sexual way, when for most people those two things are linked. But he doesn’t know how to bring it up, what to say. Or maybe he’s just terrified that asking her will confirm that he’s a freak, that something got messed up in his DNA.

All at once Luke is thinking about that girl at that party, her hand just above his jeans, and the prospect of her going lower, and he wants to vomit.

Many feelings are building up, he doesn’t know what to do with any of them, and he feels _lost_. Luke isn’t supposed to be the one who felt lost. He’s supposed to be the one who knows exactly who he is and what he’s working for, and now he feels like he doesn’t know anything at all.

***

At the next practice, Luke and Reggie share the mic again, and Luke thinks about how adorable Reggie is when he’s into a song and his eyes crinkle at the corner and how easy it would be to learn forward and kiss him. How much he _wants_ to lean forward and kiss him.

Luke stops gesturing for Reggie to join him during performances.

***

One day Reggie begins wearing a bracelet identical to Julie’s. Luke avoids looking at it. Whatever is going on with Luke, he knows he’s not straight, and the bracelet is a reminder that Reggie isn’t some unattainable straight guy Luke would have gotten over because he didn’t have a chance. No, it’s worse than that, because maybe Luke could have had Reggie in a slightly differently reality where Luke is dateable. In this one Reggie is a friend for Luke to pine after like an idiot. So he doesn’t look at the bracelet, but after practice Luke finds himself hovering by Julie’s bedroom door while she’s inside doing homework, too scared to knock but unable to leave.

When the door opens, Luke freezes, too startled to apparate away.

“Luke?” Julie tilts her head. Her hair is pulled back and she’s wearing glasses and sleepwear, a comfortable ensemble for studying. She steps back, and he walks past her into her room. After closing the door behind her, she says, “What’s wrong? I could hear you pacing. I thought you were going to be Alex, but then again Alex would have just knocked.”

Luke wrings his hands, for the first time wishing he had sleeves to play with, like how Reggie fidgets with his flannel. _Reggie._ No, he needs to _stop_ thinking about Reggie.

Julie sits on her bed, patting the spot beside her. “I’ve got all night.”

As much as Julie prioritizes school, Luke fully believes she would stay up late finishing her schoolwork sooner than she’d let Luke’s crisis go unresolved. He sits down next to her, leg bouncing. “I think there’s something wrong with me,” he blurts.

Julie raises her eyebrows. “Care to elaborate on that?”

Luke stands, returning to pacing as he rambles. “I just—you used the word ‘bisexual’ and it kind of made sense but kind of didn’t, like I’ve dated girls and guys and it felt the same but like, I still don’t know if that’s the right word, because it’s less that I like _both_ and more like it doesn’t even matter, you know? Like I don’t even _think_ about gender beyond, like, what it meant to like guys in the ‘90s and how bad it could be, and now that doesn’t matter. But it’s not even just that, that’s not even the important part. The important part is the word is bi _sexual_ and I don’t know if I even _do_ sexual. Like there are physical _urges_ and stuff and I get _that_ , but I don’t get why other people have to be involved, you know? I don’t look at people and think about sex, but apparently that’s a thing other people do, and apparently sex is always a part of romance for other people, and I don’t get that either. Optional sex, sure, but like, _always_? Why is that the standard? And why don’t I get it? What’s _wrong_ with me?”

When he’s done with his tangent, Luke resists the urge to apparate to anywhere Julie isn’t and instead sits beside her, out of breath as he hides his face in his hands. All the energy has drained out of him. He’s nauseous and exhausted and _scared_ , because now someone _knows_ , and what if she tells him that the way he loves romantically isn’t enough? What if she tells him to leave? He’s not sure when he started crying, but he can feel the tears on his hands.

“I wish I could touch you,” Julie says, voice soft.

Luke lists his head. “What?”

“You obviously need a hug,” she says. “How long have you been holding that in for?”

“A year or so,” he mumbles.

“Oh, Luke,” she says. Chewing her lip, she gets a spark in her eye, picking up a discarded shirt from the floor and wrapping it loosely around her hand. She and the boys are still learning the rules of ghosthood, but to her and Luke’s delight, when she places the wrapped hand over his, he can feel the shirt, and as a result the pressure of her hand. It’s not the same as direct touch or a hug, but it’s what they can manage.

Once the physical reassurance is in place, she continues. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Luke. I’m not going to force labels on you, but I think I know what you’re feeling. I guess you didn’t have the word ‘asexuality’ in 1995.”

Hope surges in his chest, but he keeps himself from becoming too optimistic. “Asexuality?”

Julie nods. “Yeah. It means not experiencing sexual attraction.”

Luke’s eyes are on where Julie was indirectly pressing her hand to his. “And that’s separate from the rest?”

“It can be,” she says. “Most people experience romantic attraction and sexual attraction toward the same genders, and sexual attraction is usually an aspect of romantic attraction although it can exist on its own. That’s not always true, though. You can experience romantic attraction without experiencing sexual attraction.”

Although Julie spoke slowly to give Luke time to process, his brain still can’t keep up. It’s a _thing_. All this tension he had building up, assuming he was wrong and weird, and all this time it’s been a real thing. There are other people like him. The weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders.

“And what about the rest?” he asks. “The romantic stuff?”

“Well,” Julie says, “bisexual is the most common label for liking more than one gender, but it’s not the only one. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like you might be pan.”

Luke meets her eyes. “Pan? Like the cookware?”

Julie giggles. “Like pansexual. Or, in your case, panromantic. That’s the word for it as a romantic orientation instead of a sexual one. It’s when gender isn’t a factor in who you love. Flynn is pansexual.”

“Is that allowed?” Luke says, and Julie’s giggles graduate to cackling, not at Luke but at the situation.

“Of course it’s allowed,” she says. “People love different people in different ways. Like I said, I’m not trying to tell you who you are, but it sounds like you’re panromantic asexual.”

Luke flips his hand so he can lace his and Julie’s fingers together through the shirt. His eyes are watering again, this time for the opposite reason. “I thought I was just broken.”

The humor fades from Julie’s face. “Not at all, Luke. Not many people are like you, but that doesn’t make it wrong. If anything, it makes you cooler.” She winks at him, and as nice as holding her hand is, he hates that he can’t hold her close and show her how much this means to him.

“Thank you,” he says, voice cracking.

Julie smiles, overflowing with warmth. “Any time, Luke. I’m always here for you.”

Luke bites his lip. “Um, one more thing?” He pauses. “I think I totally have a crush on Reggie.”

She squeals. “I _knew_ it.”

Luke pouts. “How could you know when I didn’t even know?”

“Because you, Luke ‘Heart Eyes’ Patterson, are not subtle,” she says.

His face warms. “I’m not that obvious.” His eyes widen. “Wait, am I? Does he know?”

“Don’t worry,” she says. “Reggie is great with emotions in general, but not when they pertain to him.”

“That’s true,” Luke says. He sighs, managing a small smile as he squeezes her hand. “I love you, Jules.”

“I love you too, Luke.”

***

A couple weeks later, Luke still hasn’t returned to sharing the mic with Reggie, but he finds two woven bracelets tucked into his guitar case when he opens it for practice. One is pink, yellow, and blue, while the other is black, gray, white, and purple. He knows what they must be without asking, but since there’s two, Julie left a note clarifying the first one is the panromantic one and the other is the asexual one. He puts on the pan one though he’s not ready to start wearing the other, and he mouths ‘thank you’s to Julie and Flynn during practice that day.

After practice, Julie and Flynn head to the house for a study session while Alex leaves to meet up with Willie. Reggie, meanwhile, is on edge, glancing at Luke from the opposite end of the couch while playing with the sleeves of his flannel. Luke wants to ask him what’s wrong, but doing so would only draw attention to the fact that he’s begun both consciously and unconsciously avoiding him, which is a less than subtle course of action given how often they’re left alone together.

“Are we okay?” Reggie asks, voice cracking.

When Luke looks at him, Reggie looks away, his face red and blotchy. Luke’s throat is sealed shut with guilt. “Of course we are,” he says, but his voice wavers and Reggie notices, cringing.

“You’re lying to me,” he says softly. “I can’t remember the last time you lied to me.” Reggie stands, sticking his hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans as he walks away. “Whatever.”

“Come on, Reginald,” Luke says as he follows after him, forcing a smile.

Reggie turns around, eyes wet. “Don’t,” he says. “You can’t just ignore me and lie to me and then act like it’s fine.”

Luke’s smile drops. “I’m sorry, okay?”

Reggie waits, and when it becomes clear Luke is done talking, he shakes his head. “Not sorry enough to tell me what’s going on, though.” He swallows. “You said we’re the only family we need, Luke. If you really meant that you wouldn’t be treating me like this while acting normal with Alex and Julie.”

Reggie’s words are a punch to the gut. “I’m sorry, Reg, but I just...I can’t explain.”

Reggie laughs without humor, turning away. Under his breath he says, “I always knew you liked them more than me.”

Luke’s stomach drops, but before he can counter Reggie’s claim, Reggie apparates away.

***

Luke has never had a real fight with Reggie or Alex before. Minor squabbles, sure, but never a _fight_. Even though what happened between him and Reggie was hardly the screaming match type of fight you see in movies, it feels just as intense as one. Especially when Reggie doesn’t come home that night. Luke knows that Reggie is bound to be ambling along the beach, but if he’s going to go find him, he first needs to know what he’s going to say, how he’s going to make this right. The only problem is he has no idea what he’s doing.

Luke goes to bed early, but he’s still awake when Alex joins him. “Where’s Reggie?” he asks, settling under the covers.

Luke lays with his back to Alex. “We had a fight.” He can feel Alex raise his eyebrows.

“A fight?”

“Yeah,” Luke says. “A real one.”

“But we don’t fight,” Alex says.

“I know.”

“What happened?”

Luke sighs. “It’s my fault.”

“That’s not an answer,” Alex says.

Luke begrudgingly rolls over. Even though Reggie isn’t here, he and Alex left his center spot open. Reggie always takes the center so he can have maximum physical comfort from his friends. “I did something stupid.”

Alex is unimpressed. “Are you going to make me drag it out of you?”

“I’ve been avoiding him,” Luke says. “Because I’ve got a stupid crush on him and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Can’t do anything as in can’t get rid of it or can’t act on it?” Alex asks without a trace of surprise. Of course Alex has also caught on.

“Either,” Luke says. “Both.”

“You want to explain why that is?”

Luke chews on his lip, picturing the bracelets hidden in his guitar case. Breathing becomes more difficult. “I’m not an easy person to love.”

Alex’s eyebrows furrow. “What’s that supposed to mean? We all love you. Especially Reggie.”

“No, I mean—” Luke closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them. “Alex, I—” God, he didn’t expect this to be this hard. “I’m asexual.”

Despite Luke bracing himself for the inevitable definition request, Alex says, “Oh, I know that one. Willie is ace, too.”

Luke’s lips part but no words come out. Then, “H-he is?”

“Yeah,” Alex says. “He’s pretty open about it, so I don’t think he’d mind me telling you.”

This is not how Luke expected this conversation to go, but he feels floaty. “And—and that doesn’t change how you feel about him?” Alex has been open with his feelings for Willie ever since Luke reassured him at the Hollywood Ghost Club. Not that he needs to be, as every interaction the two share is overflowing with affection.

Alex’s face twists like Luke suggested he’s straight. “Of course not.”

Luke unleashes a short, relieved laugh.

“Wait, is that what this is about?” Alex says. “You don’t think he could love you because of that?”

Luke nods.

Alex opens his mouth on reflex, only to stop and think. “Look, Luke. I don’t know what it’s like to be asexual, so I can’t judge you for how you’re feeling. But different people feel differently, and you’re not going to know how Reggie feels about it unless you’re honest with him.”

“I know,” Luke mumbles. “I’m just...I’m just afraid. Not even just of rejection. But that he’d, like, see me differently.”

Alex reached across the empty space between them, taking Luke’s hand. “We’re all family. Nothing is going to change that.”

“You’re right,” Luke says. “God, I’m going to have to talk to him now, aren’t I?”

Alex gives him a wry smile. “That you are. Go get your man, loverboy.”

Luke grimaces. “You _are_ not calling me that.”

“I’m going to keep calling you that until you talk to him, loverboy.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” Luke says, getting up. “I didn’t know you were such a bully.”

“You really should have,” Alex says.

Luke rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. Even though he’s scared as hell, he’s smiling. Before he can talk himself out of it, he changes into his standard apparel and apparates to the beach. Given that the sun has long since gone down, Reggie is the only person on the beach, making him easy to find. Luke takes a deep breath, repeating his prepared speech in his head even as he can’t dismiss the anxiety sitting in his gut. His hands are in his pockets as he approaches.

“Reggie,” he begins to gently get his friend’s attention.

Reggie stalls before slowly turning around. His eyes and nose are red, and although Luke didn’t think it possible, he now feels a hundred times worse. “What?” Reggie’s voice wobbles despite his best attempt to keep it even.

“What you said about me liking Julie and Alex more than you—that’s not true. At _all_. I owe you an explanation, and I’m going to give you one, but I wanted to say that first. There has never been a moment when I loved you any less than them.” Luke’s voice is strained, but he’s pleased with his ability to get everything out and remain articulate.

Reggie crosses his arms, not meeting Luke’s eyes. “I’ll believe that when you tell me what’s going on.”

Luke nods even though Reggie isn’t watching. He wipes his hands on his jeans, sweating despite the night chill. “I just—I got scared. Because I have a crush on you, and I didn’t think you could return it. It was easier to keep my distance than risk making it worse or giving you a chance to catch on. I was a coward, and I’m sorry.”

Reggie is looking at him like he’s seen a ghost, which, technically, he has. Luke has never seen Reggie this still, but Reggie’s eyes show off a multitude of emotions all at once. There are times Luke is convinced Reggie feels everything to twice the degree of everyone else.

When Reggie finally responds, he says, “How could you ever think I couldn’t return it?” He scraps at the sand with his shoe. “I thought I was being so obvious.”

Luke chews on his lip, adrenaline pumping though he keeps his hope at bay. He hasn’t done the hard part yet. “Because...because there’s something I haven’t told you. Something that might change the way you feel about me.”

Reggie’s glow dims. “Julie.”

The corners of Luke’s mouth downturn. “ _No_. I keep telling you guys nothing is going on.”

“Okay, okay,” Reggie says, stepping into Luke’s space with Luke’s full permission. “Then what is it?”

Luke rubs the back of his neck, averting his gaze and feeling as though he’s under a microscope. “I suppose you don’t know the word asexual?”

“No, I do,” Reggie says. When Luke looks at him again, he continues, “I talked to Julie more about the new labels and stuff. She told me about it. I’m pretty sure Willie has a pride bracelet for it.” Then, with the same look he gets when he finds the perfect word in Scrabble, he says, “You’re asexual? That’s what you wanted to tell me?”

“Yeah,” Luke says, mouth dry. 

A grin breaks out on Reggie’s face as he takes Luke’s hands. “I wish you’d said something earlier. I don’t care about that.”

Luke blinks at him one, two, three times. “You...you don’t?”

Reggie shakes his head, squeezing Luke’s hands. “Nope,” he said, popping the P.

Luke gawked at him. “But _how_? Everyone always acts like sex is the best thing ever, especially in a relationship.”

Reggie shrugs. “It can be nice, but I have hands. I want _you_.”

A tidal wave of validation and relief crashes over Luke, leaving his eyes wet. “And here I thought you couldn’t get any more amazing.”

“And I thought you couldn’t get any more ridiculous, but then you went and thought I couldn’t love you.” Reggie laughs, placing a kiss on Luke’s cheek that leaves his skin burning.

Luke rolls his eyes, but right now fondness is overruling every other emotion. Leaning close to Reggie’s ear, he murmurs, “You missed,” then presses a soft kiss to his lips. The kiss only lasts a matter of seconds, but it feels like all the stars aligning to make a new constellation just for them.

When they break apart, they place their foreheads together, both wearing smiles so large their faces hurt. “I wouldn’t mind doing that for the rest of the afterlife,” Reggie says.

“Good,” Luke says before kissing him again. “Because I’m going to kiss you often enough to nauseate all our friends.”

Reggie snorts, sitting at the edge of the tide. “I don’t think that’s possible. Alex says they ‘ship’ us.”

Luke raises an eyebrow, settling beside him with an arm around his shoulders. “What does that mean?”

Reggie shrugs. “Not sure. I think they’ve been waiting for us to get together, though. Which makes sense, we are pretty darn cute.”

“I think that’s the smartest thing you’ve ever said.”

Reggie is amused. “Says the guy who always gets his butt kicked at Scrabble.”

Luke chuckles, drawing him in for another kiss. “And I wouldn’t mind you kicking my butt at Scrabble for the rest of the afterlife.”

Reggie snuggles into Luke. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

After falling into a comfortable silence, they stay there under the stars, sharing feathery kisses and watching the waves until the sun comes up.

***

The next day at practice, the ace pride bracelet is waiting in Luke’s guitar case. He thinks about Julie, Alex, Reggie, and the unconditional acceptance they’ve given him. No one comments when he puts it on, but smiles are shared when they notice.

For the first time, Luke is proud.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a reminder that although I wrote Luke to lean more toward sex indifference or repulsion, not all aces are like that, and an ace person's personal feelings about having sex don't invalidate their asexuality :) Thank you for reading! Comments make my day :)


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